Monday, June 4, 2012

Apologies are rare things to make the
news, yet this week one did with Dharun Ravi's apology to the
Clementi family for his actions that led Tyler Clementi to take his
own life. I have followed this case the way I follow much of the
news, in that I listen to NPR in my kitchen in the morning. Thanks to
the iPhone, I check headlines and my favorite writers throughout the
day. While I think Tyler Clementi's death tragic, and Ravi's actions
that contributed to it abhorrent, I didn't obsessively follow the
court proceedings. I didn't weigh in at Ravi's potential deportation
or jail sentencing. Though I often have quite a bit to yell back at
my kitchen radio about, I didn't yell about this case – or I didn't
until I heard Ravi's apology this week.

Except that I don't know that we can
call it an apology. Mostly, it was a statement read by his lawyers.
When Judge Berman asked if Ravi had anything to say to the family
about his actions, he said nothing. Given that Ravi made extensive
attempts to cover up his actions, many commentators and Op-Ed writers
concluded Ravi didn't feel remorse, or that if he did, it was only
remorse for getting caught.

There is an art to apologizing, and
it's not really one that is often taught. We think we are teaching
our children to apologize: any time our toddler goes to a play ground
and grabs a toy that isn't his, the knee jerk reaction is to demand
s/he say their sorry. While this tells children they are expected to
tell people they are sorry when they do something that upsets someone
else, it doesn't teach them about responsibility for their actions or
about being accountable for the repercussions of those actions. So,
what we often end up with are people who say they are sorry, simply
because it's expected of them to do so. And this is what Ravi's
apology sounds like: his advisors standing over him like his parents
used to do at the playground, “Now. Say you're sorry.”

Tyler Clementi's family was right to
reject the apology and say that it was insincere. They were right to
say that “a sincere apology is personal” and to point out that
“it included no words of sincere remorse, compassion or
responsibility for the pain he caused.” Because it didn't. An
effective apology requires compassion and the ability to see the
damage done from another point of view; the apologizer has to be able
to understand why the other party feels wronged.

Instead, Ravi's statement allows that
he just made a thoughtless mistake. He writes, “my behavior and
actions, which at no time were motivated by hate, bigotry, prejudice
or desire to hurt, humiliate or embarrass anyone, were nonetheless
the wrong choices and decisions.”

If Tyler Clementi were my son, I'd give
Ravi's apology a no pass too.

I too would ask for some authenticity,
or at the very least, I'd ask, if your actions were not motivated by
the desire to hurt, humiliate or embarrass someone, what were they
motivated by? Because sticking a camera in someone's bedroom when
they have a date coming over, and then inviting all your friends to
watch is actually a pretty clear attempt to humiliate or embarrass or
laugh at someone. Anytime we stick someone into the position of
“other” or “different from us” we are hurting them. And
anytime we seek to look good or feel included at the expense of
someone else, you are bullying.

An actual apology takes courage. It
takes courage to acknowledge one's hurtful actions and those it
impacted, but when doing so, it shows the other party that you
understand the cause-effect nature of your actions, and that your
actions have repercussions that you didn't anticipate.

An actual apology also requires an
explanation for why the offense happened, what motivated it, what led
someone to take a considerable amount of action to hurt someone else.
An explanation for the behavior has others see that you understand
the damage of your actions and that your behavior is worth changing.
Injured parties want to know that the wrongdoing won't occur again;
an effective apology reassures them that it won't.

Often, effective apologies also make
reparations. In Ravi's case, the court has assigned these in hours of
community service. Still, it wouldn't have hurt Ravi to ask
Clementi's family about what they wanted him to do or if there was
anything he could do that would ease the pain he caused. It's
thoughtful.

Everyone does things that hurts other
people or at the very least bothers other people, but it takes
vulnerability to admit that you were wrong or that you did something
that really hurt someone else. On the playground, it is nice to
apologize, but it doesn't mean anything if it's just out of
expectation, and not actual compassion.

2
comments:

And in reverse, it hurts when you do give a sincere apology and the person doesn't accept it and move on. Sometimes you can really learn about someone's character, and in that situation, you're better off not being around that person.

I do agree that apologizing isn't simply saying you're sorry. One thing that I have recently read, that I had never thought of before, is that the phrases: "I'm sorry if you feel that way..." or "I'm sorry if you..." isn't a sincere apology but a way to avoid responsibility for your actions. [http://lightshouse.org/lights-blog/top-ten-most-dysfunctional-things-people-say#axzz1vze1mnvQ]

I never viewed it that way before and always thought that was an acceptable apology since offense is taken not given, but my intent might have been for ill, so I need to realize that my words aren't always said in innocence.

It does hurt when someone doesn't accept an apology or when you do take absolute responsibility - and it is their right. Some people take awhile to forgive or don't have an interest in forgiveness. Sometimes these people are easier not to be around - I at least have a hard time being around people who don't allow you to move forward from a mistake you've accounted for.

And yes - I find the I'm sorry you feel that way apology the most absurd and insulting if not completely devaluing of things to say.